The Promise
by LSupergirl
Summary: Future Fic. T/R. Rory is a journalist who witnesses a crime. Old feelings resurface when Tristin must protect her.
1. Philadelphia

A/N: A completely different story than my previous fic. Think I can write serious? Let's give it a shot...  
  
  
  
Rory Gilmore stared intently at the email in front of her. This was unbelievable. She could quite possibly blow the whistle on one of the most notorious drug dealers in Philadelphia. Someone had emailed her a heads up. But who? The email address was unfamiliar, and the favors she had called in to have the address traced had yielded nothing. She had been agonizing for almost an hour-was the tip legitimate? Once she had firmly decided that it indeed was, she was still unsure. She was hesitant about putting herself into such a dangerous situation for her work. Though she loved her work, she didn't love it enough to put herself in mortal danger. On the other hand, this was a prime opportunity. She was already the top reporter at the Philadelphia Daily News. With a little more recognition, she could possibly make the jump to her dream job, which would take her back to Hartford. Rory made up her mind to go to the designated location outlined in the email. She would stay out of sight and be extremely cautious. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
***  
  
After graduating from Harvard University with a degree in Journalism, Rory got a great offer from a prestigious paper in Philadelphia. So she packed her bags and made the move. In the four years that she had worked there, she had efficiently worked her way up the ladder to one of the most envied positions available. She was a consummate and dedicated professional; she loved her work. Her articles frequently graced the front page and Rory herself had garnered much recognition among the City of Brotherly Love. But she was lonely. She missed her family and her friends in Hartford. Being the workaholic that the job required didn't leave a lot of time to form close bonds with other people. Her goal was to be in a position to negotiate the move back to Hartford. So that's why she put her faith into a tip that fateful Friday night.  
  
***  
  
Rory was smart. She knew the area of Philadelphia she was being sent to and realized that certain people would not be looked at twice. So that Friday night found Rory Gilmore dressed as a bag lady, with a hidden camcorder securely buried beneath a pile of rags. She pushed a shopping cart leisurely down Broad Street, pretending to pick up more items from random trash cans. She didn't have to wait long.  
  
An expensive car, very out of place for the location, pulled up to the sidewalk ten feet in front of where Rory stood with her shopping cart. A man, the infamous Joey Mendoza, stepped out of the limo. He disappeared inside an apartment building after conferring with the driver. The car pulled away from the side of the curb.   
  
After she was positive that the car was out of sight, Rory climbed on top of a dumpster to peer through a window. She saw Mendoza accepting money from an unidentified man. She pulled a camera out of her pocket and quickly snapped a couple shots. Neither man noticed. They appeared to be arguing about something. The unidentified man shakily reached into his pocket and pulled a gun on Mendoza. Mendoza seemed almost amused. He spoke to the other man, who unsteadily lowered the gun. The man slowly turned his back, ready to walk through the door. Rory watched in horror as Mendoza reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. The man whipped around just in time for his face to register shock as the bullets ripped bloody holes into his body. Mendoza left the body and calmly walked towards the door.  
  
Rory looked around her, desperately searching for a place to hide. She dove into the dumpster she was standing on and tried to control her panic. Her breaths were coming in short uneven spurts. Her hands shook. She clenched them together, trying to stop the shakes. A few minutes later, she heard a car stop at the curb.   
  
"The threat has been eliminated," Mendoza reported to the occupant of the car.  
  
"Excellent work," came the voice from the car. The car door opened then slammed closed again. The car sped away down the street.   
  
Rory huddled in the dumpster, too frightened to move. What if they weren't gone? After half an hour, she heard no noises. She poked her head over the edge of the dumpster and studied her surroundings. No one in sight. She hopped out of the dumpster and ran unsteadily toward the shopping cart she had abandoned. After sifting through the garbage, she retrieved her cell phone and the camcorder. She hurriedly dialed 911 and described the situation. Then she ran back into apartment building. She cautiously approached the man on the floor. There was blood everywhere. She probed the man's throat, searching for the spot where his pulse should be. She found nothing. She sank to her knees, staring at the dead man in front of her.  
  
That was how the police found her. Sitting despondently on the floor, covered in blood. After the paramedics treated her for shock, they took her into the station. After viewing the camcorder and camera found at the scene, they quickly cleared Rory of any wrong doing and instead tried to gauge what she knew about the situation. Rory told them about the tip she had received. She described the expensive car and Joey Mendoza. At the mention of Mendoza, the police realized that something was going on. This was no random homicide. So they called in the FBI, who had jurisdiction over the case. And that was how Tristin Dugrey came into the picture.   
  
***  
  
Tristin Dugrey walked into the police station in Philadelphia a few hours later. He had flown in straight from DC when his superiors had informed him of a break in the case he had been laboring over for nearly a year. He had been carefully building up a case against one of the biggest drug dealers in Philadelphia. And now, he finally had a lead. An eyewitness, who could testify against Joey Mendoza, who would in turn rat out his boss. This case was finally coming to a head.  
  
***  
  
Tristin Dugrey had been recruited out of college into the FBI training program at Quantico. He had been immersed in his study of Criminal Law at Yale University when suddenly, his life took a different track. He completed his training in just a little under 3 years, a feat unheard of. He quickly made a name for himself in the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He had an obscenely high solve rate, due to his powerful investigative skills and extreme determination. He had little time for relationships, especially after having his heart broken in high school. His superiors had entrusted him with this very high profile case. Now he could solve it, and maybe get a transfer to the field office back in Hartford. He wanted nothing more than to get away from DC and back home.  
  
***  
  
"Is she in there?" he asked the police officer standing in the hallway.  
  
"Yeah, she's a little shaken up. Take it easy on her, Agent Dugrey."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Tristin walked into the interrogation room, and nearly had a heart attack. Rory Gilmore. My God.  
  
***  
  
Rory looked up in alarm when the door unexpectedly opened again. Then she cursed herself for being so jumpy when she saw the FBI Agent that the police had informed her was coming. Then she took in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the confident manner in which he held himself. She stared in amazement. Tristin Dugrey had become an FBI Agent?   
  
Tristin found his voice first. "Rory? What are you doing here?"  
  
Rory looked him straight in the eye. "I kind of witnessed a murder, in case you hadn't heard."  
  
Tristin shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "I mean, I know that, but what are you doing in Philadelphia? And what the HELL do you think you're doing putting yourself in jeopardy like that?" He was beginning to get angry.  
  
"My job," Rory stated flatly.  
  
"You could have gotten killed!"  
  
"And you could easily get killed in your line of work. We all do what we have to do."  
  
"I don't believe this. This is crazy. You are the last person I ever expected..."  
  
"Well, what happens now?" All Rory wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed...maybe call her mother and hear her comforting voice.  
  
"Well, you've agreed to testify against Joey Mendoza, correct?"  
  
Rory nodded her head.  
  
"We've got to put you in protective custody until the trial."  
  
"WHAT!"  
  
"Rory, the media is all over this. This is a high profile case. You're in danger. Once Mendoza's boss finds out your identity, and believe me he will, he will do whatever it takes to get you out of the way. We've got to make sure you're safe. Your safety comes above everything else."  
  
Rory buried her face in her hands. "I don't believe this is happening."  
  
"I'll go make the proper arrangements. Sit tight, okay?" Tristin gave her a reassuring smile before turning and walking out the door.  
  
***  
  
"I understand sir...yes, sir...I will make sure of it. Thank you, sir." Tristin hung up his cell phone and leaned against the wall. His superior had agreed to let Tristin take on the task of ensuring Rory's safety. After hearing of their past history, his boss had been concerned that Tristin would allow his personal feelings to get the better of his judgment. But Tristin had done some fast talking and made some good points-mainly, that Rory would feel safer with someone she knows. His boss had finally agreed. So now all he had to do was break it to Rory.  
  
***  
  
"So wait a minute, YOU'RE going to stay with me?"  
  
"Technically, we'll be going to a different location, but yes. I will be with you." He waited for the yelling to begin. And was surprised.  
  
"Thank God," Rory breathed.  
  
Tristin relaxed a little. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised.  
  



	2. Drive

  
After Tristin performed his obligatory bureaucratic bullshit diplomatic pleasantries with the Philadelphia Police, he escorted Rory back to her apartment to gather a few of her belongings. As they approached the door to Rory's apartment, Tristin gestured for her to stay behind him. He drew his gun from the holster inside his jacket and cautiously entered the apartment. He quickly swept the apartment before he was satisfied that it was safe for Rory to enter.  
  
Despite the severity of the situation, a small smile graced Rory's features. "When did you become all FBI on me?"  
  
Tristin's professional mask slipped from his face. He ducked his head and his cheeks colored. "Sorry, I just had to be sure it was safe for you to be here."  
  
Rory took in his appearance. He was dressed in a Bureau issue dark suit that nicely outlined his firm body. His face had lost it's carefree charm and instead gained a quiet intensity. Even his demeanor was different. No longer the play boy of Chilton Prep, now he was all grown up.   
  
Rory nodded to him, letting him know she understood. Then she began zipping around her apartment, gathering some of her belongings. Tristin tried to stay out of the way while discreetly studying his surroundings. Her apartment seemed very homey. It fit her personality exactly. There were pictures of her loved ones all over the place. Bookshelves stacked with books took up most of the space in her living room. Her furniture was tasteful, but not flashy. Her computer equipment was state of the art, probably a must for her chosen profession.   
  
"So where are we going," asked Rory tentatively.  
  
"I can't tell you until we get there," Tristin apologized.  
  
"Can I at least call my mother to let her know what's going on?"  
  
Tristin opened his mouth to protest before wisely rethinking that decision. "I'll make a deal with you. When we get to the safe house, I'll call in a few favors and get a secure line for you to communicate with your mother. That's the best I can do right now."  
  
Rory sighed. "I guess that'll have to be enough."  
  
She looked longingly at her apartment, her haven, before sighing again in resignation. "Okay, I'm ready."  
  
Tristin understood immediately what she was thinking. "I bet you're wishing you had just stayed home tonight."  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
***  
  
The Bureau had arranged for a car to be dropped off at Police Headquarters for Tristin. After taking a taxi back to the station, Tristin climbed behind the wheel while Rory claimed shotgun. He shed his jacket and loosened his tie. "Get comfortable," he advised. "This is going to be a long drive."  
  
Rory settled into her seat more comfortably before immediately conking out. The stress and trauma of the situation had finally caught up to her. She willingly surrendered herself to the peace and tranquillity of unconsciousness.  
  
***  
  
Tristin sneaked a glance at her sleeping form. Fate sure was a bitch. The person that had single handedly shaped his future, leading him to his destiny, was now the person that he must protect. In the sixteenth year of his life, Tristin Dugrey had come to several realizations. One, money isn't everything. Two, the world sucked. Three, life without passion isn't life at all. So he had found his passion. In his first year of college, he had finally gotten to the point where Rory didn't consume his every thought and action. She had broken his heart, albeit unwittingly, and he had spent the rest of his high school career madly in love and pining for her. But once at college, Tristin resolved to move on with his life. So he tucked every emotion away inside his heart. But those long buried feelings were starting to resurface. It was the first time he had laid eyes on her in nearly a decade, but he found himself falling, as if it was the first time. Rory Gilmore, he thought. What the hell are you doing to me?  
  
***  
  
Rory awoke several hours later, still in the car. She wearily rubbed her eyes with her hands and fought back a yawn. She looked over at Tristin. She couldn't see his face, just his profile outlined against the night sky. She dropped her eyelids deceptively, wanting him to think she was still asleep. She didn't feel like talking right away, she just wanted to think. Though she had reported and written about many murders and horrific crimes, she had never gotten used to it. And it's one hundred times worse, she reflected, when you've felt a victim's blood on your own hands, when you've seen someone else pull the trigger, when you've feared for your own life...she shuddered.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Tristin saw Rory's movements. He knew that she was only pretending to be asleep. He had known the second she had woken up. He was, after all, an investigator. He knew why she was hiding from him. She was scared. She was vulnerable. She had just witnessed a murder, And now her life was in danger. He wondered what she was thinking about.   
  
She shivered again. With one arm, he retrieved his jacket from the back seat and draped it over her. He soothingly rubbed her arm before returning both hands to the wheel. His concentration shifted back to the road and to the problem at hand. How to protect Rory from drug dealers, while simultaneously protecting himself from her.  
  
Rory snuggled into Tristin's jacket. It smelled good, like after shave and deodorant and Tristin himself. With these comforting thoughts, Rory drifted once again into a peaceful slumber.  
  
***  
  
When Rory awoke again, the car was pulling up to a cabin tucked deep into the woods. "Where are we?" she asked sleepily.  
  
"Upstate New York," he replied. "We should be safe up here."  
  
Rory nodded her head. She reached for the door and attempted to step out of the car. Her legs quickly buckled and she began to slip toward the ground. In a flash, Tristin ran to her side and caught her in his arms.   
  
"My legs seem to be asleep," she said sheepishly.  
  
"Then I'll carry you," he said simply.  
  
Rory looped her arms around his neck as he stooped and picked her up. She was as light as a feather. He cradled her body weight into his chest as he made his way up the steps to the porch. He managed to maneuver the door open, then set her down on a couch inside the cabin.   
  
"I'm going to unload the car. I'll be back in a few."  
  
Rory settled herself on the couch and attempted to get rid of the pins and needles sensation out of her limbs. She stood up as the feeling in her legs returned. She opened the door for Tristin as he came up the porch stairs with his arms full of supplies.  
  
"Thanks," he said. "Now just let me make a few phone calls and then we'll have you talking to your mom in no time."  
  
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, and it means a lot."  
  
"Just doing my job, ma'am," he said, while pretending to tip his hat to her.  
  
Rory smiled sweetly at him. Tristin's breath caught in his throat. "I, uh, better go make some calls," he said, while practically running out of the room.  
  
Rory shrugged, confused by his odd behavior. He really had changed.  
  
***  
  
In one of the bedrooms, Tristin tried to control the hammering of his heart against his chest. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. The hammering gradually faded to a pronounced thudding. Tristin buried his head in his hands. Cool it, he told himself. You're a professional. Concentrate on the case. With that said, he dialed the number to his boss.  
  
"Sir, we've just arrived," he said when the phone was answered. He listened for a few beats, while his boss updated him on the events taking place in Philadelphia. "Damn it!" he cursed. "I understand sir. I'm requesting a few trustworthy agents for back up, should the need arise."  
  
He hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. Mendoza had disappeared, probably gone into hiding. His boss was probably looking for them now. The shit had just hit the fan.  
  
  



	3. Catching Up

  
"Tristin?" Rory poked her head into the bedroom where Tristin had been pacing for the last fifteen minutes. "What's up?"  
  
Tristin looked up, his concentration broken. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His hair was standing up in messy spikes. He looked like hell. "There's a slight problem."  
  
"Problem?" she repeated dumbly. What else could possibly have happened?  
  
"Joey Mendoza has disappeared. I had some agents try to bring him in, but he was long gone. There was no possible way he could have known we were about to arrest him."  
  
"Couldn't he have seen it on the news?"  
  
"No, this all went down before the news even aired."  
  
"Maybe he's just very cautious."  
  
"Possibly..."  
  
"There's a 'but' in there somewhere."  
  
"But I think it's slightly more serious than that."  
  
"Okay, stop being so cryptic. What the hell is going on?"  
  
"I think there's a leak in the police department."  
  
"On what do you base that? The fact that a drug dealer who just murdered a guy suddenly decided to split town? Excellent deductive skills, Agent."  
  
"There's more. There's evidence missing."  
  
"WHAT!"  
  
"Your camera and camcorder have been stolen. Right now, the only proof that Joey Mendoza was even there last night is your word."  
  
As the full weight of his words sunk into Rory's mind, the color drained from her face. "I'm your whole case?"  
  
"In a word, yes."  
  
Rory sank down onto the bed, shoulders slumped in defeat. "So if something should happen to me..."  
  
"...Then we can't prove a thing," Tristin finished. "Joey Mendoza goes free and whoever he's working for continues his drug ring."  
  
Rory let that sink in for a moment. Then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin stubbornly. "Then I guess we'll just have to make sure you get me to the trial in one piece."  
  
"You can count on it."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Tristin cleared his throat. "Well," he said looking at his watch, "it's either extremely early or extremely late. I'd say it's about time you got some rest."   
  
"I slept in the car," she pointed out.  
  
Tristin gave her a look.  
  
"I guess I could stand for a few more hours. Aren't you going to sleep?"  
  
"No, I'm going to work on the case for a while."  
  
"I'll stay up with you."  
  
He pointed to the bed. "To bed."  
  
***  
  
The sun was just beginning to rise and Tristin had yet to get some rest. This case just didn't make sense. Who was the leak in the police department? Obviously Mendoza had bribed or had dirt on someone, but who? Who was the man that was murdered? How did he fit into all of this? Why did the man give Mendoza money? Was it a pay off for something? And who had emailed Rory? Why was she involved?   
  
Tristin suspected that the murdered man was the one who had emailed Rory. But the million dollar question...why? He pounded his fist on the open case file lying on the table. He unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck and rotated his neck in half circles, trying to get the kinks out. Then he stood and stretched. He would look over the case file one more time, then go to sleep. He settled back into his chair and began reading.  
  
***  
  
Rory stared at the sun rising above the trees. The light made the air seem to shimmer. The sky was bright with the promise of a new day. The world seemed fresh and optimistic. But Rory was filled with dread. Drug dealers were probably hunting her down as she sat there, marveling over the beauty of the world. She decided to give up on sleep. How could she possibly lay down and close her eyes when, for all intents and purposes, she had a bulls eye painted on her forehead? She rose from the bed, a blanket over her shoulders, and made her way to the main area of the cabin. There she saw Tristin, fast asleep atop a stack of papers.  
  
With all that was happening, Rory hadn't even thought about what his reentrance into her life meant. She hadn't seen him since high school graduation. Even back then, their relationship had been strained. Their friendship had never fully mended after the incident at the end of sophomore year. Though Rory had regretted her actions and wanted to tell him, she could never bring herself to say the words.   
  
After that year, Tristin had distanced himself from her. She knew that he had wound up at Yale, but how had he ended up in the FBI? What made him go into such a dangerous profession? Funny how things work out. Never in her life had she ever thought that she would be a prime witness in a murder, and that she would have to be protected by the guy that had made her first year at Chilton a living hell.  
  
But we've grown up, Rory reminded herself. Give him a chance. He is the one that is making sure I don't die for a very long time.  
  
With those thoughts fresh in her mind, Rory slipped the blanket from her shoulders and instead covered Tristin. He murmured unintelligibly, before sinking back into sleep, snoring softly. Rory went back into the bedroom and sprawled on the bed. She laid there for a few minutes, still unable to sleep. She got back up and retrieved her laptop from her bag. She began typing furiously, fingers flying over the keys. An hour later, she was finally ready to sleep.  
  
***  
  
"Any clues as to their whereabouts?"  
  
"I was able to track them out of Philadelphia. Our guy planted a bug on their car. They took the interstate, heading north."  
  
"Do you have a definite location?"  
  
"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time."  
  
***  
  
Tristin awoke when the sun was high in the sky. He immediately cursed himself for falling asleep in the most uncomfortable position known to man. As he stood up, a blanket dropped from his shoulders to the floor and puddled at his feet. He picked it up and allowed a small smile to crack through his normally expressionless face. Rory...  
  
He padded quietly to the door of the bedroom. He cracked it open the tiniest bit, enough to reveal Rory sleeping peacefully. Her laptop was plugged into an outlet in the wall and whatever she had been typing was still on the screen. It was an article for the paper. "UNIDENTIFIED MALE EXECUTED IN COLD BLOOD" stated the headline. Tristin skimmed through the article. It was amazing. She really was the best. He'd always known she would achieve her dream of becoming a journalist.  
  
Rory stirred. She awoke to see Tristin standing by the side of the bed, staring at her curiously. "What time is it?"  
  
Tristin shrugged. "Some time in the afternoon, I'm guessing."  
  
Rory groaned. "I feel...like hell."  
  
"You look like it too."  
  
"Hardy har har. We all can't look like James Bond twenty four hours a day, G-man. By the way, love the outfit."  
  
Tristin looked down at his clothes. His Armani suit was wrinkled horribly. His shirt was untucked and sat slightly askew on his shoulders.   
  
"If only you could see the hair."  
  
"Right back at ya."  
  
"So did you come up with anything?"  
  
The mood suddenly darkened, as both were once again made aware of the reality of the situation. "There's a lot of unanswered questions. I think we'll know more once the results from the medical examiner come in."  
  
"So what happens now?"  
  
"There's a warrant out for Mendoza's arrest. Once found, he'll be charged with murder and the trial will begin. But until then..."  
  
"I'm a sitting duck," said Rory glumly.  
  
"We're doing everything we can to track him down," Tristin reassured her. "We've got our best agents on the case. The FBI always gets its man."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
***  
  
"So, Tristin Dugrey, where the hell have you been the past ten years?"  
  
"It's a long story."  
  
"You're in luck. I've got lots of time."  
  
***  
  
"So that's how I ended up at the Academy."  
  
"Wow," Rory breathed. "You're like Superman. I'm impressed."  
  
"Well, you're not off the hook yet. What have you been up to? I haven't seen you since graduation."  
  
"I've been here and there," she answered.  
  
"Way to be vague."  
  
"It's really not that exciting."  
  
"I tell you mine, you tell me yours. It's only fair."  
  
"Oh, alright..."  
  
***  
  
"We've tracked them to New York. We're pinpointing an exact location now."  
  
"Excellent. Who can take care of this problem?"  
  
"I want to do it. My ass is the on the line."  
  
"Very well, Mr. Mendoza. Just try not to have any witnesses this time."  
  
***  
  
That night, Rory and Tristin were getting along better than they ever had in their lives. There was something about life and death situations that just had a way of bonding people together. They were in the middle of a heated game of Spit when both suddenly stopped short and looked up in alarm. A car was driving up the road to the cabin. It's headlights could be seen from the window.  
  
Tristin immediately pulled his gun and gestured for Rory to get down. He crouched behind the table and clicked off the safety. His ringing cell phone made both jump ten feet in the air. He hurriedly whipped the phone out of his pocket and answered it. "Dugrey."  
  
"Agent Dugrey, this is Agent Speas. The Assistant Director sent us as back up. We're outside the cabin now."  
  
Tristin immediately recognized the voice of his colleague. "Yeah, we're in here."  
He walked over to the window and watched as four or five fellow agents began unloading equipment from the Ford Taurus they had driven up.   
  
"I'm assuming they're friends of yours." Rory came to stand next to Tristin at the window.  
  
He nodded. "The cavalry has arrived."  
  
  
  



	4. On The Move

A/N: Sorry for the breaks between updates, but I'm finding it hard to make the time to actually write. Unless of course I stay up until 3AM, but call me crazy, I like sleep. At any rate, I'll update when I can.   
  
  
The four agents entered the cabin and immediately began to set up high tech surveillance equipment for the perimeter of the cabin as well as the surrounding woods. Rory sat back and watched while Tristin conversed with the new agents. He knew all of them, he had worked with them before. He knew that there was no possible way for Mendoza's men to get within thirty miles of the cabin without them knowing it. With the entire burden of Rory's safety now divided among a team, Tristin felt a hell of a lot better. She would be safe now.  
  
***  
  
"Be advised that there are now five federal agents as well as Miss Gilmore to contend with."  
  
"Damn it! When did this happen?"  
  
"The original agent assigned to protect her, Agent Dugrey, apparently requested back up."  
  
"He's probably suspicious of the Philadelphia PD."  
  
"Yes, he's extremely intuitive."  
  
"Well, this doesn't change anything. They're still in a secluded location, no witnesses around. I'll take care of it tonight."  
  
***  
  
"Rory, this is Agent Speas, Agent Thompson, Agent Smith, and Agent Martin." He pointed to each man, so Rory could associate a face with the name. "They'll be ensuring the safety of this location as well as keeping us up to date on the man hunt for Mendoza."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Rory said shyly.  
  
Each agent nodded in greeting, then immediately went to work. Tristin returned to studying the case file. Rory decided to grab a shower and get to bed.  
  
***  
  
Tristin had only been puzzling over the case file for about fifteen minutes when a thought suddenly struck him. He put on his jacket and hurried out the cabin door. He was now having suspicions about the Philadelphia PD, but the car he had driven up had come from them. What if their location wasn't as secure as he thought it was...  
  
Tristin began to carefully inspect the car, inch by inch. The inside of the car was clean. He crouched down on his hands and knees and carefully inspected the tires. Finding nothing, he laid on his back and searched the underside of the car. Bingo. There it was. A tracking device. Shit!! He needed a new plan, and fast. There was no way to tell how long it would take Mendoza to reach them. He had to move now.  
  
Tristin charged back into the cabin and informed the agents of the problem. Immediately they devised a plan. While Agent Speas contacted DC, Tristin hurried to inform Rory of the latest development. He walked into her bedroom without knocking. Big mistake.   
  
***  
  
Rory had just gotten out of the shower. She had forgotten to bring her clothes from the bedroom into the adjoining bathroom. It wasn't really a big deal, so she didn't think anything of simply walking out of the bathroom into the bedroom with only a towel covering her. As she dropped the towel, Tristin walked into her room.   
  
***  
  
Tristin's eyes briefly swept over her body, before he realized what he was doing. His eyes finally made it up to Rory's face, their gazes locking. They both froze. Then they sprung into action. Tristin quickly averted his eyes and turned his back while Rory frantically grabbed for her discarded towel.  
  
"What are you doing?" Rory managed to squeak out.  
  
"Man, I am so sorry, I should have knocked..." Tristin babbled on, nervously apologizing.  
  
Both of their faces had flushed a charming shade of pink, and for some reason, Rory's heart was racing. Tristin swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Then he suddenly remembered his reason for busting in like that.  
  
"There's another problem."  
  
"What this time?" she questioned, while hurriedly tugging her clothes on.  
  
"There was a bug planted on our car. They probably know where we are. We're going to have to leave."  
  
"When?"  
  
"The sooner the better. As soon as possible."  
  
"What's the game plan?" Rory, now fully clothed, came into his line of vision.  
  
"Two agents, probably Thompson and Martin, are going to drive our car around. Lead them on a wild goose chase. That will give us time to get to another safe house. We're hoping they won't realize that we've discovered the bug."  
  
"Alright," said Rory slowly. "I just need to get my stuff together." She rushed around the room, throwing her things into bags.   
  
Tristin left her there and went back into the main room to further discuss the details of the plan with the other agents. He took long deep breaths. The image of Rory Gilmore naked, standing before him, was forever branded in his memory. He couldn't possibly forget any curve, any birthmark, if he tried. He groaned softly. This was torture.  
  
***  
  
Rory sat down on the bed and took a few deep breaths. Her heart was pounding and she was finding it hard to breathe. It's because they know where you are, she informed herself. Your life is in danger. Of course it has nothing to do with Tristin. Or the way his eyes had traveled intimately over her body. Or the lust she had seen in his eyes. Or the fire she felt coursing through her veins when she found that she was attracted to him. Don't be silly, she scolded herself. As soon as this mess is over, he'll go back to DC and you'll go back to Philadelphia. No use deluding yourself with these feelings. They're probably a sham anyway...just brought on by the situation we're in. It doesn't mean anything.  
  
***  
  
Tristin stood in front of the assembled agents, briefing them on the situation. "Alright, Here's what we're going to do. Thompson, Martin, you two will take the tagged car. Drive anywhere you want, maybe back to DC. Lead them to the Hoover building if you want. Just keep them away from where we're headed. Speas, Smith, you're with me. We're driving to a new location, hopefully somewhere secure this time. We are to stay in contact with both DC and each other the whole time. Understood?"  
  
Four head nodded in confirmation. Rory walked out of the bedroom, into the main sitting area. She had her bags packed up.   
  
Seeing her, Tristin knew it was time to move out. "Alright, this is it. Time to move. Good luck."  
  
The two groups got into their respective cars. Martin and Thompson drove off first, driving north. Then Speas started up the engine and they were off. Tristin and Rory sat in the back seat, purposely avoiding eye contact with each other.   
  
***  
  
Mendoza's men were en route to the cabin when they saw the little green dot on the tracking screen begin to move again. "What the hell..."  
  
One of them dialed Mendoza's number. "Sir, they're on the move."  
  
"That's impossible. They wouldn't have any reason to change locations...unless they discovered the bug."  
  
"Should we follow?"  
  
"No, go to the cabin first. Look to see where they might have really gone. Somehow I doubt that Miss Gilmore is in that car."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
***  
  
Speas drove on through the night. The next morning, Rory woke up to discover that she had snuggled into Tristin's arms during the night. She immediately disentangled herself and leaned against the car door.   
  
Tristin let out a small sigh of disappointment. She was spooked now. It was going to take her awhile to feel comfortable around him again. Meanwhile, they had a crime to solve and a suspect to track down.  
  
***  
  
Mendoza's men arrived at the cabin. They pulled their guns from their jackets and approached the door. It looked deserted. They broke the door down. Just as they suspected. Everything was in shambles, as if they had left in a hurry. They went back outside and looked around. Imprinted in the soft dirt, they saw two sets of tire tracks. Now, which one to follow. They consulted their map showing them the tracking device. The tracking device was now traveling through Connecticut. Now, which set of tracks to follow...   
  
***  
  
A few hours later, Speas drove the car into DC. For now, the safest place for Rory would be in the Hoover Building. For one, Mendoza's men would never gain access to it. Two, the whole building was full of agents. Three, it allowed Tristin to join the efforts to track down Mendoza while simultaneously keeping an eye on Rory. For all intents and purposes, it was the ideal location.  
  
***   
  
Rory sat in a swivel chair in Tristin's office. She mindlessly spun herself around, like she used to do when she was younger. Her hair flew out in all directions. She soon bored of that activity and instead contented herself with looking around Tristin's office. She saw numerous commendations and awards. But no pictures of friends or loved ones. No hint of the man behind the FBI agent. Except...faded and crumbling, from an envelope in his desk drawer, Rory wonderingly pulled out a pair of tickets to PJ Harvey. What the hell... Why had he held on to the damn things?  
  
***  
  
Mendoza was livid. Somehow, his incompetent men had lost the trail of Gilmore and Dugrey. They told him that the green dot had mysteriously disappeared from the tracking screen. Perfect. Dugrey had, in all likelihood, discovered the bug and destroyed it. The only thing they had to go on was the location of the dot before it had disappeared. Somewhere in Connecticut. Wait a minute...Gilmore grew up in Connecticut. Mendoza smiled. He could still salvage this.  
  
  



	5. Return to Stars Hollow

A/N: Hey, someone remind me next time that it's extremely stupid and INSANE to write a casefile type fic one part at a time. I'm no longer responsible for my actions. You have been warned.  
  
  
Mendoza looked over the file on Gilmore while traveling to her hometown. She had grown up in Stars Hollow, Connecticut; attended Stars Hollow High School before transferring to Chilton Prep in Hartford in her sophomore year. Graduated from Chilton, valedictorian, then moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts to attend Harvard University. Majored in Journalism, graduated summa cum laude. After graduation, she immediately relocated to Philadelphia to write for Philadelphia Daily News. However, despite the extensive traveling from home, she remained close to her mother and visited home frequently. Mendoza smiled, a plan already forming. It didn't matter if Gilmore was currently in Stars Hollow or not. If her file was any indication, she would be there shortly. He'd make sure of it.  
  
***  
  
Tristin wearily stumbled into his office. He headed straight for the couch he had placed there for exactly that purpose. Often, during investigations, Tristin found that he didn't have the energy, or the patience for that matter, to drive to and from his apartment just to get some sleep. So he would catch a few hours on his couch then go back to work. He was about to flop down on the couch when he saw Rory perched on one end. His concentration on the case had been so intense that he had forgotten she was even there. The surprise on his face was clearly evident to Rory. She was amazed that he could immerse himself so completely in the task at hand. But clearly, he was very good at his job.  
  
"Any leads?" she asked.  
  
"Not a single one," he said dejectedly. "Mendoza's dropped off the face of the planet."  
  
A shrill chirping sound trilled from Tristin's jacket pocket. "Dugrey," he answered. He listened intently for a moment, then his face turned red with rage. "YOU DID WHAT!" he yelled into the phone. With a quick glance at Rory, he got up from the couch and walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Rory flinched. This definitely didn't look good.   
  
Tristin returned a few minutes later, seething. "Rory, don't be alarmed. This could be nothing. But I want you to call home."  
  
"What? Why?" Rory was completely lost.  
  
"Thompson and Martin dumped the bug before telling me."  
  
"That doesn't seem like a big deal," she ventured.  
  
"But WHERE they dumped it...that's the problem." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "They dumped it in Connecticut, not too far from Hartford. Those idiots!! They didn't give me a chance to tell them that you grew up not too far from there. If Mendoza knows anything about you whatsoever, he'll assume that you went home. He'll look for you there."  
  
"My mother...the whole town. We have to warn them!"  
  
"Here's the problem," said Tristin. "We don't know if Mendoza even took the bait. He could be in Connecticut, that's true. But he could just as easily be at the cabin or on our trail. So here's what I'm asking you to do. I want you to call your mother and see if she's alright. Either way, we're flying to Hartford tonight. But this way, I'll be able to determine if I should contact the Hartford field office for back up or to request them to keep an eye on things, just in case."  
  
He crossed the room and sat next to Rory on the couch. "Look," he said, gently caressing her hands. "I know how hard this is for you. I know how scared you must be. But I have a gut feeling that this will all be over soon."  
  
Rory looked into his eyes. He truly cared about how she felt. Maybe he even cared about her a little. "Alright," she said. "But what do I say to my mom on the phone? Hi Mom, drug dealers are trying to kill me, what's new with you?"  
  
"Just try to find out if there's been any suspicious activity in town recently."  
  
"I'll do my best."  
  
Tristin handed her his office phone. Rory dialed the familiar numbers. She waited anxiously, while the phone continued to ring. Out of nervous agitation, she began to twirl the phone cord around her figure. After what seemed like forever, her mother breathlessly answered the phone. "Hey, Lorelai speaking. Speak quick, my time is valuable."  
  
"Hi Mom."  
  
"Rory! Hey, what's up babe? How are you? Where are you? I tried to call your apartment, but no one answered. So I left five billion messages, but you never called me back," Lorelai pouted.  
  
"Sorry, Mom," Rory apologized, a little confused. How did her mom not know of everything that had happened? "Things have been a little hectic lately."  
  
"So where are you?"  
  
"Well...I'm actually in Washington DC."  
  
"Working on a story?"  
  
"You could say that."  
  
"Have you seen any FBI or CIA agents? If you do, ask them about Roswell. I've always wanted to know what really happened."  
  
"I'll be sure to ask," Rory smiled. Everything seemed to be okay. Life as usual.  
  
"Anyway, the reason I was calling. Some guy is here. He says he went to Harvard with you. He wanted to know how to get in touch with you, but I wanted to call and make sure it was okay first."  
  
Rory's palms began to sweat. "Did he leave his name?" she managed to ask.  
  
"No, but he did mention that you saw him recently in Philly...on Broad Street? Yeah, Broad Street he said."  
  
"When did he come by?"   
  
"Just this morning. In fact, he's staying at the inn."  
  
Rory's eyes went wide with panic. She wordlessly handed the receiver to Tristin.  
  
Tristin had been following Rory's side of the conversation and had a pretty good idea of what was happening. He spoke urgently into the phone. "Ms. Gilmore? This is Tristin Dugrey, Special Agent with the FBI. I'm going to need to ask you some questions."  
  
***  
  
Within the hour, Tristin and Rory were on a plane to Hartford. The field office in Hartford had been informed of the situation. They were already moving into position in the outskirts of Stars Hollow. Lorelai had been warned of the danger that Mendoza presented. The only part of the whole scenario that didn't make sense was why Mendoza hadn't tried anything yet.  
  
***  
  
Rory shifted uncomfortably in her seat. What was about airplanes that no matter what position you sat in, you just couldn't get comfortable. The seats were too close together. The movie was inane and boring. The food sucked. Oh yeah, and there was a drug dealer waiting to kill her at home. Maybe that was it. Why the hell did that jackass have to go to her home? Her beloved town, with it's wonderful people, untouched by the harsh reality of the world. His mere presence desecrated the goodness of the town.  
  
Rory sighed and wished for the plane to land. She wanted to be in Stars Hollow, with her mother, pretending that everything was fine. She wanted to sit at Luke's and play "1-2-3 He's Mine" with her mother and watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She wanted to be a kid again. Being a grown up sucked.  
  
Tristin sensed her restlessness. He patted his shoulder, in an obvious invitation for her to go to sleep. She shook her head. She was too wired to sleep. He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her head to his chest. She relaxed into his body and soon fell into sleep. Tristin leaned his head against hers, content in the moment. Who knows how many more moments of pure bliss he would have. Frankly, he had no idea what to expect in Stars Hollow. But even beyond this case...he was in a dangerous profession. He had never seriously thought about dying before. To him, life was about unlimited time and deadlines to meet. Maybe he should focus more on the moments. Like this one. With the girl of his adolescent dreams, who had somehow grown into the woman of his dreams. If they both managed to survive this thing, Tristin resolved to make some changes in his life. Starting with the woman he couldn't see himself living another day without...  
  
***  
  
Mendoza reclined on his bed at the inn. He stared up at the ceiling, his head propped up on his hands. The plane should be landing any minute now. In another hour or so, they would be driving into town. Then he could put the final phase of this elaborate plan into motion. He would not go to jail. He would never get caught. Not in this lifetime. He would die before he went to jail.  
  
***  
  
Driving down the highway, as the sun was just beginning to set, Tristin made a decision. He abruptly pulled over to the side of the road. Rory looked at him, bewildered. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Promise me something."  
  
She looked at him curiously.  
  
He looked at her, her blue eyes wide and round. And he chickened out. "...Uh, be...careful. Be careful. I don't want anything happening to you. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt. So, uh, be careful."  
  
"That goes double for you," she said solemnly. "You've been so great these past few days. You've been my rock. I don't know how I'd have gotten through this without you."  
  
Without another word, Tristin pulled back onto the road and drove. Rory swallowed her disappointment. She thought that he was going to say something else. She had wanted him to say something else. As they drove closer and closer to Stars Hollow, the feeling of dread inside Rory grew bigger and bigger. She just wanted this to be over. When was it going to be over?  
  
  



	6. Confrontations

  
Tristin and Rory soon drove up to the outskirts of Stars Hollow. They encountered maybe ten agents from the Hartford field office. Tristin immediately went in search of the Special Agent in Charge for an update on the situation. Rory looked around her in wonder. It was so odd to see government officials milling around her quiet little town. The outside world had finally found a way to intrude.  
  
Tristin made his way over to Rory's side. "Okay, here's the scoop. Mendoza is alone. He's been in his room at the inn for a few hours. We have no idea what he's up to, but he hasn't tried to contact anyone since he talked to your mother this morning. No one has tried to approach him. The SAC thought it would be better to give him a false sense of security until we arrived. Now they're coming up with a way to bring him in. We don't want a lot of gunfire. The inn is booked solid, so there's a lot of people around. We're going to set up surveillance around the inn, with cooperation from your mother. This way, if he so much as sneezes, we'll know about it. Sound good?"  
  
"One question. What the hell is he doing? Why is he just kicking back in his hotel room instead of hunting me down?"  
  
Tristin shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. There's definitely more to this than meets the eye. He's up to something. I just can't see what it is yet."  
  
***  
  
Mendoza checked his watch. They should be outside right now. Good. If his men could follow simple instructions, everything would work out fine. He couldn't have planned this better. The rooms on either side of him were occupied. There was no way any FBI would be chasing him in here. They would have to wait for him to leave. And he wouldn't be doing that until Miss Gilmore was walking out with him.  
  
***  
  
Hours later, there was still no progress. Mendoza was still in his room and all the FBI agents were still a safe distance away. Tristin sent Rory to her mother's house to get some rest. Two agents from the Hartford field office had graciously offered to put in some overtime and go with her for protection. He sought out the SAC to see if there had been any new developments.  
  
"Agent St. John!"  
  
"Yes, Agent Dugrey?"  
  
"Any updates for me?"  
  
"No. I feel like we're beating a dead horse here."  
  
"When can we make a move on Mendoza? I don't like sitting here and waiting. He's got something up his sleeve."  
  
"We've got to wait until Agents Walker and Steltz finish setting up the surveillance."  
  
"Walker and Steltz aren't on surveillance. They just took Rory back to her mother's house."  
  
"No, Speas and Smith, your agents, went with Gilmore."  
  
"Speas and Smith are in DC! There's no way..."  
  
Sudden realization set in on both agents' faces. "SHIT!"  
  
Tristin immediately darted off. SAC St. John immediately sent a few of his agents as back up. The rest of the team stayed behind to keep an eye on Mendoza. There was no telling what he'd do know. Was this a distraction? Or was it a part of some bigger plan?  
  
***  
  
Tristin ran as if he had wings on his feet. He couldn't think of anything but getting to Rory. How could he have been so stupid? You dumbass, he cursed himself. How could he have been so careless? He entrusted Rory's safety to two strangers, who most likely were Mendoza's men. If anything happened to her...He kept running.  
  
***  
  
Rory and Lorelai sat on the couch in the living room. The two "FBI agents" paced back and forth on the carpet in front of them. Lorelai was scared out of her mind, but Rory was plain pissed. She had been running for days. She was tired and stressed. She spoke up.  
  
"If you're going to kill me, just do it already. I'm sick of the cloak and dagger routine."   
  
"Rory!" Lorelai hissed.   
  
"We would, but we've got other plans for you at the moment. Besides, we're waiting for one more person."  
  
***  
  
The Gilmore house was finally in sight. Tristin barreled up the porch steps and knocked down the door. "Rory!" he called urgently. "Rory, where are you?" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the people assembled in the living room.   
  
"Agent Dugrey, nice of you to join us. We can get started now."  
  
Tristin started to pull his gun but was stopped. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Wouldn't want anything to happen to the lovely Miss Gilmore or her mother."  
  
Tristin put his hands face up and slowly kneeled, dropping his gun on the floor in front of his feet.   
  
"That's better. Now kick it over here."  
  
Tristin grudgingly followed his instructions.   
  
"Now take a seat."  
  
Tristin sank down on the couch, next to Rory. "Don't worry," he whispered. "There's a team of FBI agents right behind me. They'll be here any second."  
  
"Okay, now that our merry little party is complete. We really should be going."  
  
"Where?" asked Lorelai.  
  
"Oh, you're not going anywhere. Mike here is going stay and make sure that G-man doesn't try to be a hero. Got that, G-man? Try anything and Miss Gilmore ends up motherless."  
  
"Leave my mother out of this. You want me, you have me. Let's just get this over with."  
  
"Sorry, but you're in no position to negotiate. Besides, it's not up to me. Now let's go."  
  
Mendoza's man held two pistols, one in each hand. Rory and Tristin were forced to walk back to the inn, with the butts of the pistols firmly stuck into their backs. Right outside the Gilmore house, the FBI agents were getting ready to enter the house. "Tell them to drop their weapons."  
  
"No f'n way."  
  
"Do it," he hissed, shoving the pistol harder into Rory's back. She let out a painful cry of surprise.  
  
"Drop your weapons!" Tristin called.  
  
The agents immediately lowered their guns.   
  
"Lay on your stomachs with your hands behind your head!" Mendoza's man called. "If I say any of you following us, you'll be having a funeral for a fellow agent, as well as a federal witness."  
  
They walked on without further incident until they reached the inn. SAC St. John immediately recognized that there was a hostage situation and let them pass through without any trouble. Somehow, the agents had cleared the inn during the day. They had been preparing to storm the inn when Tristin and Rory had shown up at gun point. Luckily, the surveillance equipment was still in tact; the agents outside the building could see everything that went on inside.  
  
***  
  
Mendoza's man led them straight to Mendoza. He had been awaiting their arrival since early that morning. He was more than ready for them now. "Tristin! Rory! Do you mind if I call you that? I feel as if we're old friends now." He smiled at them cordially.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" Tristin asked warily.   
  
"What do I want? I want a lot of things, Agent Dugrey. I want a mansion. On an island. Somewhere sunny and deserted. But most of all, I don't want to go to jail. So you can see my dilemma here. As long as Miss Gilmore here is able to testify against me, I won't get any of those things."  
  
"You won't have to serve long," Tristin reasoned. "Just give us the name of your boss."  
  
"Nice try. If I give up any information, I won't even make it to sentencing."  
  
"We can offer you protection. You could be put into the Witness Protection Program."  
  
"Ha! No offense, but judging from the piss poor job you did of keeping me away from Miss Gilmore, I wouldn't last a week."  
  
"This was an entirely different situation," Tristin rambled on. Distract him, he thought to himself. He was desperately trying to think of a way to discreetly reach the gun he kept in a holster around his ankle. "I let my personal feelings get in the way of my job."  
  
"Oh, I know all about it," Mendoza assured him. "Such a heartwarming story. Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Girl witnesses murder. Boy protects girl. But not well enough, I'm afraid. Girl dies."  
  
"You don't know the half of it," Tristin scoffed.   
  
"Is that so? Care to fill in the blanks?"  
  
"Do you want to hear how it really happened?" asked Tristin, his voice cracking with emotion. "How about this: I've loved this girl since high school. She was the new girl, sweet, innocent, and extremely smart. The opposite of every other girl I had ever gone for. Well, I fall hard. So I do the only thing I know how to do. I try to sweep her off her feet. Well, that doesn't work, so I tease her instead. Endlessly. And then I find out she has a boyfriend. So I get worse. Then, finally, they break up. We kiss, slowly become friends. Then on the last day of school, he comes crawling back. And she falls for it. I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe. Two more years go by. I don't even approach her in school anymore. High school graduation was the last time I ever saw her, until last week. Suddenly, she's thrown back into my life. And I fall hard...again. But I can't even take the time to get to know her, or show her how I've changed, because I'm too busy protecting her from slimeballs like you."  
  
"Well," Mendoza said, taken aback, "I believe that information was left out of her file. It's too bad that I'm going to kill her anyway."  
  
Rory didn't hear a word Mendoza said. She was still stuck on: "He loves me?"  
  



	7. Resolutions

  
Outside, SAC St. John was watching the scene unfold. He was carefully weighing his options. Dugrey seemed to be doing a great job of keeping Mendoza distracted, but how long could he last? The inn was cleared of all civilians and the agents gathered outside were anxious to resolve the hostage situation. The elder Gilmore had already been rescued from her house. Mendoza's man had been arrested and was presently cooling his heels in the custody of the FBI. But the most important objective was to ensure Rory Gilmore's safety. She was the key to the destruction of the biggest drug ring in Philly.   
  
He looked at the floor plans of the inn. According to the surveillance cameras, Dugrey and Gilmore were being held on the first floor. Mendoza's other man was covering the door to the room. If agents were able to penetrate the building, they would have to take out the man outside the room without Mendoza's notice. He looked at his watch. They had been in there for nearly half an hour. He needed to act soon.  
  
***  
  
Inside, the room was filled with tension. Tristin mentally kicked himself. The point of that outpouring had been to distract Mendoza, not reveal his feelings to Rory. Not that it was a bad thing. But he hadn't wanted her to find out that way. It was neither the right place or time. Too late now.  
  
Rory looked shell shocked. Tristin's words were beginning to sink in. She had no idea that he had felt that way about her for so long. She was touched. But damn! What a way to find out. He had to have the worst timing in the world. Way to tell me how you feel, she ranted internally. You couldn't have mentioned this earlier? Or maybe you were waiting for the funeral.   
  
Tristin kept his gaze firmly on Mendoza, not daring to look at Rory. If they got out of this alive, she was going to kill him. But he had more important things to worry about at the moment.   
  
Mendoza sensed the discomfort and saw the way that Rory and Tristin refused to look at each other. This was very interesting. Too bad he had to put both of them out of their misery. "I'm afraid time has run out. It really is time to finish this. If you have anything to say to each other, I suggest you say it now."  
  
***  
  
St. John listened with rapt attention. Time was up. He spoke quietly but left no room for argument. "Alright, boys. Here's your chance. We're going in."  
  
***  
  
Tristin spoke first. "Rory, I messed up. And I'm sorry. I messed up over a decade ago when we first met and I messed up right now by failing to protect you. I guess some things never change. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry that I never really got a chance to know you as well as I would have liked to. But most of all, I'm sorry that I never acted on my feelings for you. Who knows what might have been? All I can say now is that if I die tonight, it'll be okay because I got to see you again."  
  
Mendoza's attention was momentarily lost when he heard suspicious sounds coming from another part of the inn. As he turned to tell his guard to check it out, Tristin lifted his pant leg and pulled the spare gun from his ankle holster. He aimed it point blank at Mendoza. "Drop your weapon," he said in a dangerously low voice.  
  
Mendoza was outraged that Tristin had somehow managed to hold onto a gun. He casually pointed a pistol at Rory. "No, I don't think so. You can't touch me. You need me to finger the higher ups."  
  
Tristin watched in horror as Mendoza's finger moved to tighten on the trigger. Time seemed to slow as Tristin launched himself at Rory. "Get down!" he yelled.   
  
Rory uttered a wordless shriek as a shot was fired and the full force of Tristin's body sent her sprawling to the ground. The next few moments seemed to stretch into a lifetime...a team of FBI agents wearing Kevlar vests knocked the door down. "FBI! Drop your weapons! Don't move!"...Mendoza's look of panic as he was shoved up against a wall and read his rights...Rory sitting up, dazed, as she looked at her bloodstained hands...the relief that engulfed her when she realized she wasn't hurt...the gut wrenching despair that immediately followed when she saw thick red blood oozing from a gun shot wound in Tristin's chest...the terror she felt when her eyes locked with a cloudy, murky gaze instead of the clear blue she was used to.   
  
Time snapped back to normal as realization set in. Rory flew to Tristin, her eyes wild with panic. She propped his head up in her lap as she pressed the palm of her hand into his chest, applying pressure. He let out a painful moan. "Help!! I need help over here!" she cried desperately.  
  
St. John rushed over. "Shit!! Agent down! I repeat, agent down! Send an ambulance!"  
  
"Rory," Tristin whispered weakly. "Are you hurt?"   
  
"I'm not the one you should be worried about," she said shakily.   
  
"...Need to tell you something..."  
  
"Not now," she pleaded. "Later."  
  
"No," he whispered with more force. He could feel himself getting weaker and weaker as the blood flowed freely from his chest. He was getting lightheaded and he needed her to understand.  
  
"You're going to be fine," Rory babbled on. She determinedly pressed harder, trying to diminish the flow of blood.  
  
"I meant everything I said..." he whispered, ignoring her. "...love you...even if I die, I wouldn't change a thing...as long as you're okay," he trailed off.  
  
Rory looked him straight in the eye. "You think I'd be okay without you? Think again. You're not going to die. I'm not going to let you. So don't even think about it."  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin, sixteen again, backing her up against a locker her first day at Chilton.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin at the birthday party from hell. "Where's my birthday kiss?"  
  
She pressed harder, with all her might.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin at the piano. "You are very odd, you know that?"  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin in Government class. "Me either...I don't want to be King."  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin walking dejectedly back into the hallways of Chilton as she and Dean reunited in the courtyard.  
  
The EMTs arrived. They gently but efficiently lifted Tristin's body onto a stretcher. Rory mutely followed. The doors of the ambulance closed behind them. Rory heard two thumps on the closed doors, then the ambulance took off for Hartford General.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin at high school graduation, looking at her with an unidentifiable expression on his face, as she made her valedictory address.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin, confidently striding into the interrogation room, then coming to a dead halt when he saw her huddled there.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin walking into her bedroom, eyes as big as saucers, quickly turning his back, though not before she saw the expression in his eyes.  
  
-FLASH-  
  
Tristin laying on the floor, his blood staining her hands.  
  
"You won't die," she said grimly. "You can't."  
  
***  
  
Rory paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room. Tristin had been in surgery for over two hours. She was a wreck. He had to make it.   
  
"Rory, sit down," Lorelai pleaded. "You're reminding me too much of the Energizer bunny."  
  
Rory half smiled, grateful for her mother's attempts to distract her with humor. "I can't. Not until I know."  
  
"C'mere," Lorelai said, patting the seat next to her. "Tell me about him."  
  
Rory sat. Her head fell to the crook between her mother's neck and shoulder. Hot tears slowly trailed their way down her cheeks. "I love him," she whispered.   
  
Lorelai gently smoothed Rory's hair away from her face and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Of course you do. And you'll have plenty of opportunities to tell him."  
  
"Dear God, I hope so."  
  
***  
  
Doctor Silvester came striding out of surgery, an optimistic expression on his face. He approached Lorelai and Rory and warmly shook each of their hands. "Now we're not out of the woods yet," he warned. "But I have every reason to believe that Agent Dugrey will be up and running again very soon. We'll know for certain within the next twenty four hours."  
  
"Can I see him?" Rory ventured.  
  
"Of course, follow me, please."  
  
Lorelai, sensing that Rory needed to see him alone, stayed behind in the waiting room. She gave her daughter a quick hug, then pushed her gently in the direction of Tristin's room. "Tell him."  
  
***  
  
Rory stood resolutely outside the door to Tristin's room. She took a deep breath to steady her racing heartbeat, then stepped over the threshold. He lay sleeping peacefully on the standard hospital bed. Rory pulled a chair over to his bedside and settled herself in. Then she took his hand, sandwiching it between hers. She raised it hesitantly to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on the palm of his hand. Then she began talking. "When we were in the cabin hiding from Mendoza, I wasn't scared. When you came to me and told me that he knew where we were and we had to leave, I wasn't scared. Even when he finally found me and held us hostage at the inn, I wasn't scared. Want to know why? Because you were with me. I meant what I said before. You are my rock. As long as you're with me, nothing can ever be wrong. When you took that bullet for me, when I saw the life leaking out of you, that was the first time since I went into hiding that I was truly frightened. I couldn't tell you this before, because I didn't even understand until now. But I'm telling you now. I love you. I'm not sorry that any of this happened, because some miracle, call it fate or destiny or divine intervention, brought you back into my life. I feel as if we've gotten a new lease on life. All we have to do now is take it. But we can't do that until I know that you're going to be okay. So I'm going to sit right here until you wake up. I'm not going anywhere."  
  
***  
  
Tristin blinked his eyes rapidly, as if seeing for the first time. He tried to sit up, but immediately stopped when he felt jolts of pain coursing through him. Where was he? It all came back in a flash. Rory! "Rory!" he croaked out. Where was she? He looked around him in a panic. He was in a hospital room. Good. That meant he wasn't dead...yet. He vaguely remembered riding in an ambulance...and Rory had been holding his hand. That meant that she wasn't dead either. He gingerly sat up and attempted to get out of bed. That's when he saw her. She was curled up in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair, her head resting on his bed.   
  
As if she could feel his eyes on her, she suddenly sat up ramrod straight, immediately awake. Her eyes quickly found his. "You're awake..." she breathed. And then she smiled. A brilliant joyous smile that lit up her face. "You're awake!!" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.   
  
"Hey, watch it," he teased. "I've been shot."  
  
"Tristin Dugrey, human shield."  
  
"That's me."  
  
He was surprised when she leaned over and tenderly pressed her lips to his.  
  
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"  
  
"Because I love you and I'm staying right here until you're well enough to walk out next to me."  
  
"You promise?"  
  
She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I promise."  
  
  
  



End file.
